


Holy Aromatic, Batman!

by chamsie



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Dubious Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, There's no frick frack but things get a bit spicy ok, Time Travel, Young Bruce Wayne, especially in this case, tagged bc of the nature of ABO yknow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-10 08:29:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12908112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chamsie/pseuds/chamsie
Summary: Whatever he was smelling, it was the best thing he’d smelled in ages.





	Holy Aromatic, Batman!

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically one of numerous routes my brain went down when I looked at Silencing's time travelling Nightwing+Bruce prompt. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> I'm so tired, but something (likely the filthy soul in me) possessed me to keep writing until this was more or less a complete narrative. I'm going to regret this in the morning when I'm not so exhausted, but...#YOLO.
> 
> I really hope early bird readers are coming back because I'm editing constantly and the first posting is always the roughest and most embarrassing in terms of technical error.

“Oh,” Bruce gasped awake.

 

Of all places to land after falling through a time portal, right on top of Bruce was not one Nightwing had expected.  It probably had to be one of the more awkward locations a portal had ever thrown him out of, second only to the time he’d landed in an alternate Stephanie’s bath five Earth’s over.  Boy, had that been both a fiasco to explain and to experience.  The sudden short drop meant he hadn't  had time to brace himself properly.  This close, he was practically crushing the boy-version of his mentor, and said boy-version was frozen with surprise, hair messy, and eyes wide as he gaped at the sudden intruder to his bed.  The warm light from the bedside table allowed him clear view of all these details, and Dick just stopped from smiling at how astonishingly cute Bruce was.  Dick hadn’t met an iteration of the man this young in person before.   

 

As his time travel disorientation cleared up, Dick quickly shifted onto his elbows so he wasn’t crushing the kid.  He’d definitely landed in Bruce’s bed; the dark sky outside indicated nighttime; the milky scent of _child_ meant he’d traveled back far enough to have arrived before Bruce's dynamic presentation.  The boy was visibly older than the portrait in the study though, so his parents were already gone and Nightwing would only have to worry about Alfred storming in (which the lack of nearby noise suggested was a small worry).

 

Assessment complete, Nightwing made to climb off the bed.  Portals were seriously such a pain.  How was he going to explain himself without causing Bruce to yell bloody murder?  Anyone peeking in would have thought him some next level creepy pedophile, a skeevy alpha male crawling into children's beds at night.   _God,_ no.  But come to think of it, Bruce had been pretty quiet thus far - which was a boon for Dick but was rather out of...

 

Out of...

 

Character...?  Nightwing lost his trail of thought.  A new scent had reached his nose and _holy aromatic, Batman!_

 

Whatever he was smelling was one of the best things he’d ever had the pleasure to smell, easily the best in ages.  Where was it coming from? The sweet, cloying taste was noticeable in a way Dick should have picked up on right away.  It was like it’d just appeared, and upon further sniffing, it was familiar.

 

_Home.  Steadiness.  Omega._

 

It took a moment to click, and Dick nearly choked when he realized what the smell was. No wonder he’d thought it smelt great: he was smelling _Bruce._ It was the omega’s familiar thick scent: creamy in nature and missing the extra spice of adult Bruce’s cologne, with a texture almost like smoke.  Odd.  Somehow, it was much more potent than he was used to.

 

Dick felt like he’d missed a page while reading a book or taken a wrong step while going up the stairs.  This couldn’t be right.  Dick’s nose was sharp, his mind clear, and he was certain he hadn’t hallucinated the milky scent earlier, but this delectable taste could only be Bruce.  

 

 _God,_ he smelt down right incredible right now.  Dick wrestled down the urge to growl, keeping the sound trapped in his chest where it rumbled and tickled his throat.  

 

Wrong, wrong, wrong.  Focus on the situation.  The scent was too strong, sweeter than Dick could remember it ever being.  He’d always found Bruce’s scent pleasant, but it was subtle - the aspect which allowed Bruce to fake Batman's alpha scent being that it was easier to cover up and alter.  Almost absent-mindedly, Nightwing leaned down to take a deep inhale by Bruce’s neck.  Yes, okay, it was coming from Bruce.  Then where had the milky scent gone to?

 

Had the time portal addled his senses?  He sniffed again, just to be doubly sure, and somehow the scent had _increased_ in intensity - far too much to be normal.

 

An idea clicked in Dick’s mind.  Did Bruce just...had Bruce just _presented_ right under Dick’s nose? It would explain the abrupt change in scent signature, but what were the chances of him landing in the past at the very moment it happened?  Well, probable actually, as Gotham vigilantes seemed to have terrible luck.  He blinked down at the boy beneath him, incredulous.  There was a humorous second where they stared at each other in bemusement.  Fever bright eyes held his gaze for a moment before disappearing behind dark lashes as Bruce grimaced, as if in pain.  

 

 _“Oh,”_ Bruce moaned and then The Best Smell Ever became _even better_.

 

It was fantastic - so sweet it made Dick’s mouth water, so thick that he could taste it on the back of his throat.  Caught off guard, the growl he’d been suppressing rose up and reverberated through his chest and throat.  He felt hungry and hot, and then his blood ran cold as he realized Bruce hadn’t just presented, the boy had up and gone straight into _heat_.

* * *

 

Bruce was experiencing a lot of new things tonight.  To start, having a strange man in spandex show up in the his bed was certainly a new experience, especially when he was looming over Bruce so suggestively.  He should really have been alarmed - somewhere in the back of his mind he was panicking and trying to remember how to subdue attackers - but the whole slew of foreign sensations slamming into him at the moment made it difficult to concentrate.

 

Such as the taste for one.  Bruce _loved_ the strange man’s scent, had never encountered a combo quite like it before. It was pleasantly spicy, with a splash of mint. An airy smell that packed a lot of punch. It smelled _so good_. An increasingly distant part of his mind warned he should be wary of a man who’d literally appeared out of nowhere, but the rest of him was simply reveling in the completeness he felt just breathing in that scent. He wanted to roll in that scent, wanted to surround himself with it, and bask in it like a cat in the sun.

 

The stranger shifted, lifting himself and the heavy press of his body away from Bruce. A whine rose in his throat at the loss, but Bruce managed to stifle it. What was happening to him? He never whined.  His mind told him how strange the scene was, but the rest of him felt drunk (or what Bruce had always imagined being drunk felt like).

 

He blinked blearily and then his eyes zeroed in on the sliver of neck just above the line of the strange alpha’s collar.  Tantalizing.  The skin there drew Bruce’s eyes like a magnet. He wanted to lean up and lick it - to see if he could taste that delicious spicy scent - but no!  He shouldn’t go around licking strange alphas who appeared out of nowhere!  Shouldn’t go around licking strange anyones who appeared out of nowhere actually, no matter how handsome they were or how great they smelled.  

 

He should do something: kick the intruder between the legs, call out for Alfre, flee the room -

 

Then the man leaned down to scent him, his body pressing wonderfully close, and Bruce was _gone_.  The motion had given him a good strong blast of the stranger’s scent, and a haze of sorts settled over his mind. The mint taste was powerful, but he picked out notes of cinnamon and earth that he’d missed earlier.  

 

His skin prickled and his body felt hot like he was burning up with fever.  There was an uncomfortable churning in his gut, and the space between his legs felt itchy and wet.  If he were more coherent at the moment, he’d have noticed the liquid pooling in his pants and been mortified, but Bruce’s focus had narrowed down to the satisfying way the alpha’s body rubbed against his.  His hips stuttered of their own accord, sending sparks up his spine when they brushed up against hard armour.    

 

He moaned low in his throat, and the stranger jerked in surprise before pulling away.  No, no, no!  He was trying to leave and Bruce couldn't allow that.  He had a hard time focusing, but some instinct screamed at him to cling on, to stop this scent - this heat - from leaving his side.   _Don’t leave, don’t leave!_  

* * *

What the _fuck_ was even going on? Dick had never heard of anyone going into heat literally minutes after presenting.  Apart from the rarest of cases, most people presented in a rush of hormones and increased scent production, _then_ heats and ruts started up months, sometimes years, later.  

 

“I am _so sorry_ ,” Dick blurted.

 

Bruce blinked at him dazedly.  “Huh?”  

 

He obviously wasn’t all there, pupils dilated and expression somewhat vacant.  Thin hips rocked up against him, and yup, that was definitely the nudge of Bruce’s _hard-on_ on his thigh.  No mistake.  (Dick was going to hell for this.)  The boy’s red silk pajama bottoms were soaking through with slick and pre-come, dark patches forming both front and back.

 

“Alright,” Dick babbled.  “Please don’t scream, I’m just going to get off you…”   When he started to pull away, the boy did the opposite of screaming, keening high-pitched and terrible in a way that had Dick rushing to scramble back on top of Bruce.  Which then made him want to jerk away again.  Dear, _Lord,_  thiswasterrible _._ Like he’d anticipated the reflex, Bruce's skinny arms sprang up to clamp around Dick’s shoulders and keep him in place.  The omega's slender hands scrabbled desperately against Dick’s back, barely noticeable through Nightwing’s body armour, but just enough that Dick was conscious of it.

 

 _“No!”_ The boy cried and Dick wasn’t going to be able to look adult-him in the eye for a week without hearing the whine in that sound.

 

 _Okay, Dick.  Calm down.  Take stock of the situation_.   

 

Bruce: just presented, already in his first heat.  Check.  

 

Dick: nearly panicking but still in his right mind.  Mostly.  Check.  

 

So what did he need to do?  That was obvious.  Leave, he needed to leave.  

 

“So you're experiencing some new sensations,” Nightwing stated as calmly as he could, “And while you might _think_ this is what you want, it’s definitely no-o-o-”

 

 _Oh,_ that was nice.  For a moment, Dick forgot his panic and simply closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation of Bruce peppering butterfly kisses across his jaw.  Damn, the kid was sneaky.  

 

It almost worked too, but the boy made a mistake when he shifted, his knee accidentally brushing across Dick’s crotch and jolting the alpha back into coherency.  

 

What was he doing?  Bruce was barely (probably, _hopefully)_ teenage at this point and a freshly presented omega to boot. This was the boy’s _first_ heat!  He couldn’t stay in this bed with Bruce laid out under him any longer or else he’d really do something they’d both regret.  Like get him pregnant.  Or fuck him through the mattress.  As the adult, he had to put a stop to this.  He wondered if this was what Bruce had felt all those years ago, when he’d been a horny teenager so eager to seduce his mentor.  If so, Bruce had the willpower of a saint and he’d apologize to the man promptly as soon as he returned to his time.  

 

With Herculean effort, Nightwing attempted rolling away, but Bruce stubbornly clung on and rolled with him in a mess of limbs. It ended with Nightwing winded on his back, a perfect view down Bruce’s backside as said omega was sprawled across his lap.  The boy’s pants were soaked, the material almost black where it was wet. Was it normal to produce so much slick?  The amount was just obscene.  Dick had never seen this much fluid produced outside of porn.  The fabric was _clinging_ to Bruce’s bottom, kissing the curves of his cheeks near perfectly, and Dick couldn’t. stop. focusing on that dark spot! 

 

Leave! He needed to _leave!!_

 

Dick gasped for air and immediately regretted it the next second. _Fuck,_ he should not have done that; he was still too close.  Bruce’s scent was everywhere and now it coated the back of his throat. Made it hard to breath without constantly being aware of Bruce's arousal (not that he already wasn't aware with the boy's heady scent clinging to his sense and his slick starting to soak the bed).  He himself was shamefully hard and some animal urge wondered if Bruce tasted as heavenly as he smelled at the moment.  It’d be so easy to just lean over and close the gap between their faces.  To slot his lips over those familiar _(unfamiliar)_ pink lips and stroke his tongue into that small mouth until he drew forth any number of sounds.  

 

What would Bruce taste like at this age?  

 

Nope! Nuh-uh! Dick was putting a stop to those kinds of thoughts _right now._ New rule: no touching Bruce.  

 

There was a reason Batman and his first Robin had worked so well together.  As if he’d anticipated Dick’s thoughts, Bruce moaned breathily in his ear before grinding his hips onto Dick’s thigh, putting an immediate stop to any coherent thought.  Somehow, between one blink and the next, Dick ended up with both hands on Bruce’s ass, a cheek cradled in each palm.  So much for not touching.  The boy's flesh burnt hot through the thin fabric and Dick hated himself all the more for noticing the small detail.  

 

 _Stop admiring and GO!!_  Dick roared at himself mentally.  This was madness.  It was insanity.  Bruce's pheromones were clouding his ability to think, and he had to extricate himself quick.  

 

He tried again to leave the bed, but Bruce was determined to keep him close.  For a pre-teen suffering from his first heat, the omega was surprisingly strong.  Even at this age, he did everything with a single minded purpose that made it difficult to stop him.  Dick managed to flip them again, but Bruce's arms swiftly clamped back around his shoulders, unrelentingly tight.  When he managed to pry them off, the boy then executed a semi-tackle which forced them to tumble sideways so that he was half-squishing Nightwing to the bed.  

 

Dick's alpha instincts reared up and he felt irritation prickle beneath his skin.  He was the adult and vigilante; he would _not_ be bested by an underage, inexperienced child.  “Okay, that's enough!”

 

He pushed his way up until he was looming over Bruce before grasping the omega’s arms and forcibly held them down to the mattress, as far away from himself as he could.  Rather than be deterred by the rough treatment, he showed the same pig-headed stubbornness that made the Batman who he was when he whined and _bared his neck._  Dick nearly whimpered at the sight, his vision tunneling to focus on the pleasant red flush painting Bruce’s cheeks.  His eyes followed the colour down the boy’s neck intently to where it disappeared beneath the damp collar of his nightshirt, framed neatly by the sheen of sweat across his clavicles.  An open invitation just handed over, begging for him to lean down and lick - to scrape his teeth across and  _taste -_ and Dick tore his gaze away to stare resolutely at the wall once he realized where his thoughts were headed.  This was wrong on so many levels.  Grown up Bruce would never have submitted to Dick so easily, and it was abundantly clear that this Bruce was too young to know what he was doing.  He was taking advantage of a child.  It was the sort of sobering thought he needed to get back on track.  

 

Baring his fangs in dominance, he tried once again to get off Bruce, but the omega wrapped his legs tight around Dick's waist, anchoring himself to the man and bringing their pelvises alarmingly close again.  

 

“Stop that.”

 

The boy growled back, “No!”

 

There was no way Alfred hadn't smelled them by now if not heard them.  Bruce's scent saturated the room at this point and it was overpowering - distress, arousal, and aggression all wrapped into the sweet taste of his heat.  His pajamas - those _fucking_ pajamas -  were completely soaked through, unsalvageable, slick smearing against Nightwing's thighs with every shift.  He could hardly smell himself through the thickness of Bruce’s scent, but he had to be giving off his own pheromones in spades.  If he didn’t leave soon, he’d have an extremely pissed off beta coming in to castrate him for molestation.  Dick hated to do this, but there was little choice left apart from physically tying Bruce down (or knocking him out, which Dick refused to do with the omega already high on heat hormones). Alfred could barge in any moment and then the timeline would be completely thrown to shit, if it hadn’t already been.  

 

 _“Stay,”_ he snarled, forcing as much authoritative alpha into the word as he could and shook the boy for good measure, chest rumbling with ferocity.  It took a moment, but he soon felt Bruce stiffen beneath his hands.  He waited a beat to tentatively let go before swiftly scrambling off the bed, jumping back a foot to put distance between them.

 

It was a good sign that Bruce didn't immediately leap after him.  The boy breathed raggedly before releasing a high, pained keen and twisting in place so he was facing Dick.  He squirmed uncomfortably on the sheets but didn't move an inch from the bed despite the lack of restraint.  Nightwing let out a sigh, glad it had worked, but the guilt was already eating at him.  He hated to use his pheromones this way; it felt like he was removing any and all consent.   

 

He ran a hand through his hair in frustration.  “I'm sorry I disturbed you.”  

 

The distance was already working.  Bruce blinked up at him slowly, looking much more coherent - less feral, less manic.  

 

Dick continued softly, “I shouldn't be here...I need to go.”

 

The bewilderment in Bruce's eyes was all the reply he needed, the gaze setting off all his alpha instincts to protect.  He'd seen the expression on Bruce before, but never had the omega directed it at him so openly.  

 

“It’s not you! I - I just don't belong here.”

 

He could tell the boy didn’t understand from the way he watched him blearily, eyes glassy and face still flushed, his gaze bombarding Dick with _why._ One hand stretched out weakly toward him as he croaked, “Don’t leave me too…”

 

Dick wanted to cry.  With all the fight gone out of him, Bruce looked so _small_ lying there in his bed, confused and in pain as his heat wracked his body.  He’d already lost his parents.  Now Dick was leaving him too.  It wasn’t a good idea, but the alpha couldn't help leaning back in, his aching heart pushing him to provide comfort.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Dick murmured into Bruce’s skin. He pressed kisses against the teen’s sweat-soaked forehead, fighting the urge to give in and cradle him because then he’d lose the strength to pull away. “I can’t stay, I really can’t, but I’ll always return to you.”  

 

He knew he was saying too much, but the hormones, the scent, the way those blue eyes stared back at him intensely, watery and bright, like an accusation, made him feel delirious.  Guilt tore at his chest.  He reached out and grasped Bruce’s hand tightly, squeezing it in assurance, and the boy shakily threaded their fingers together.  

 

“You don’t know me yet, but we’ll be partners.” Dick promised.  “The best partners. I can’t stay here, I have to go, but I love you.”

 

“Please…” Bruce whimpered.  “At least a name…”

 

It took everything Dick had in him to pull away from those fingers.  “Nightwing.”

 

Then he threw himself out the window because he’d lose his mind if he stayed any longer. (1) 

* * *

Five days later, Nightwing stormed back into the Cave, in the right timeline, as twitchy and agitated as if he were in a rut.  He’d spent every one of the past five days worrying for the boy he’d left crying in his own bed as he figured out a way home.  Considering the future he’d returned to hadn’t changed whatsoever, he knew Bruce had survived (that the experience was supposed to have happened) but it was hard to _feel_ that when the memory of blue eyes begging him to stay haunted his every moment.  Bruce had never begged him before.  He’d been dancing around Bruce for years before this, but he couldn’t deny it to himself after that train wreck of an encounter, not after the omega’s boy self had wrung such a visceral reaction from him.  Bruce was _his_ omega.  His and he’d abandoned him confused and alone - hurting and disoriented - to struggle with his heat.  Dick’s entire body still ached to run back and care for the omega.  

 

Even the sight of adult Bruce standing tall and healthy in the batsuit wasn’t enough to calm him.  Dick didn’t bother dressing down, simply ripped off his domino as he stalked up and demanded, “Bruce, what the _hell_ was going on?”  

 

The other male glanced up in alarm, forgetting the samples he was analyzing when he heard the frustration in Dick’s voice.  “Pardon?”  It showed how crap Bruce's interpersonal skills were that he hadn't even been offended by Dick's rude entrance.  

 

“I just came back from a few decades ago, after landing in your bed and bearing witness to pre-teen you enter his first heat!”   

 

“You time travelled?”  

 

“That’s not the focus!”  

 

Bruce frowned.  “Dick, time travel is always a serious event -”

 

“Stop!” Dick yelled.  Even returning to his own time couldn’t ease how rattled young Bruce had left him.  “We can deal with that later.  I have to know, what the hell happened back then?”  

 

Bruce stared at him like he’d grown a second head.  Maybe he did sound a little hysterical, but he didn’t care.  Five days and the trembling of Bruce’s fingers between his own was still there.  He wasn’t sure what his expression looked like, but it made Bruce concerned enough to reach out for him.  Dick pushed his hand away.  “Stop avoiding the subject.  I know you know what I’m talking about!”  

 

“It was a long time ago, Dick.”  

 

“It was less than a week for me,” Dick shot back.  His tone was harsh as he demanded, “What happened?  Why did you go into heat?”  

 

And now Bruce was annoyed.  “You need to _calm down_ first.  Stop thinking with your body and start thinking with your mind.”

 

Omega or not, Bruce was the Batman and it was that impenetrable persona of will that stared Dick into ceding.  The man was right: Dick was panicking too much.  The memory of a small hand reaching out to him flashed across his mind.  He had to stop.  Dick was already back in the future, years away from any freshly presented omegas whose distress set his teeth on edge.  He breathed deep, ran through several of the meditative breathing cycles Bruce had taught him.  

 

Bruce watched him like a hawk, making sure he calmed down.  When Dick seemed sufficiently back in control, he sighed softly.  “It was natural.  You are aware of our heightened compatibility as a couple-”

 

“You mean the fact we’re true mates?” Dick interrupted. Bruce frowned and he quickly added, “And yes, I know they don’t _actually_ exist, but it’s romantic!”

 

True mates were a persistent myth in human society.  People destined to be together, soulmates both spiritually and physically.  It had no solid basis in science apart from the natural differences in compatibility between people.  Some people found a scent more attractive than others, and some had a more vigorous reaction to certain scents.  Dick knew they didn't exist, but he liked the idea of them anyway.  His parents had been true mates. 

 

“Don’t interrupt,” Bruce scolded.  

 

“Sorry, sorry.”  

 

Dick put on his best contrite face and the omega eventually continued.  “‘True mates’ who are especially compatible can sometimes trigger heating and rutting instincts in each other.”

 

Well, yea, Dick knew about that.  If it’d been only that then he wouldn’t be half as concerned as he was.  “But you _just_ presented! What are the chances of a coincidence like that?”

 

“It wasn’t a coincidence,” Bruce growled at him.  “A few cases of early presentation triggered by a true mate have been recorded. You simply triggered an early presentation In my younger self, and your continued presence forced me into heat. ” (2)

 

“Oh.” That shut Dick up. “Is, um, that why you refused to let me sleep in your bed after I presented?”

 

Bruce raised an eyebrow at him. Suddenly, the stern way Bruce had put a stop to teenage Dick crawling into his bed when the man had let him get away with so much else made a heck of a lot more sense.  

 

Dick sighed, “Of course it was. Sorry for sexually awakening you.”

 

“And I’m out of here,” said Stephanie. She’d just stepped into the cave and now she executed a 180 the other way, smooth as could be. The two were so involved with each other, they hadn’t even noticed her intrusion (well, they did, but they paid it no heed).

 

He really was sorry.  Bruce had been so many levels of distressed that Dick didn’t think he’d be sleep anytime soon without seeing the boy plead for him to stay.  

 

The older male grunted.  “I was fine.” (3)

 

“You sure didn’t look fine,” Dick countered.  

 

“I learnt to be.”

 

Bruce had tried for a finalizing tone, but something about the way he’d said it had Dick recalling young Bruce.   _Don’t leave me._  There was the same note of resignation.  Restlessness crawled under his skin.  

 

“Please,” Dick begged him, unwilling to let it be.  “Let me do for you what I couldn’t do for him.”

 

“But I am him,” Bruce replied.

 

Dick gazed into his eyes. “Exactly.”

 

“I’m not in heat.”  

 

“That’s not the point.”  

 

They stood in charged silence for a moment, sizing each other up.  Dick refused to let this sink away into the territory of things they didn’t discuss, like how so many other issues did between them.  The same uncanny way his younger self had, Bruce seemed to have anticipated the thought.  Without warning, the omega gripped him by the neck and dragged him forward into a fevered meeting of lips that was nothing as filthy as Dick had imagined when he’d been fighting off the instinct to defile the man’s child self.  It stirred his interest all the same.  He tasted promise and desire, hesitance and apprehension.  His omega was placing his trust in him, and Dick would be damned if he didn't live up to it.

 

Bruce asked him, “Are you sure?”  

 

“I’ve never been more sure.”  

 

Sharp blue eyes observed him a moment more, before closing in resignation.  

 

“Then take me to bed, Dick.”  Bruce ordered hoarsely.

 

Dick grinned bittersweetly, sharp fangs and all.  “With pleasure.”

**Author's Note:**

> 1) So it got weirdly charged and serious here, but here’s my reasoning. Bruce literally just presented and went into heat. His body's in overdrive and all he knows is that this good smelling, handsome, virile alpha who makes his hormones sing wants to leave him in the middle of his heat. As for Dick, Bruce's distress is having a clear effect on his own ability to think. His every instinct is screaming at him to help Bruce, but he can't stay any longer or things are going to deteriorate faster than they already have. 
> 
> 2) True Mates, early presentation, and heats triggered by True Mates are all part of my ABO canon for a subset of Batfic universes. I’m compiling a compendium of the canon for myself (bc I really like making those), so if anyone’s interested I might post it up too. 
> 
> Actually, I’ll do some extra explanation. Biology varies A LOT, and some ppl are extra compatible, dynamically speaking. As Dick explained, pairings of that nature are often romanticized as 'true mates’, which isn't out of place since many famous true mates went on to form deep bonds. However, Bruce also brings up one of the ways it can be a problem: over stimulation. Dick’s time travel-timing was unfortunate because small Bruce was already close to presenting when Dick arrived. Suddenly having a few hundred pounds of muscular, virile alpha press you into the bed, blasting his extra compatible scent within inches of your nose when your body is already gearing up to produce new hormones is a bit too much. Jumping into heat almost immediately after was Bruce's body going into shock, kind of. 
> 
> 3) Bruce was NOT fine. He suffered imbalance of heat hormones for three years, body producing too much slick as it called out for Nightwing. He waited ten years for Nightwing, but ultimately gave up at 23 on the idea because one Richard Grayson just lost his parents and he had a boy to raise. 
> 
> Idk what I was doing. I started off humorous, but then it got s e r i o u s so I tried to temper the tone to be more somber and now it's a huge mess.
> 
> It just occurred to me that Bruce probably had the worst existential crisis when Dick presented and he got a whiff of that-powerful-minty-scent-with-some-cinnamon-and-earth. (As did Alfred because he'd memorized the scent of the child molester he'd let slip through, and he was not prepared to smell it coming off Dick nearly a decade or so later.)


End file.
